The Death of Venus
by Countess Verona Dracula
Summary: Jack reflects on the Black Pearl and what he did to get her. [DMC Spoilers] [Oneshot]


A/N-- I saw DMC no less than two times on opening day and this idea just wouldn't let go of me. It's just a one shot about how Jack feels for the Pearl and what he did to get her. The title is a reference to a Botticelli painting called the Birth of Venus. 

_This has spoilers for DMC. I wouldn't recommend reading it if you haven't seen the movie._

* * *

_The Death of Venus_

Jack had never imagined losing the _Pearl_. In his mind, she was his god-given right. In reality, she was Davy Jones's gift.

When he first saw Davy Jones in the Faithful Bride thirteen years before, Jack was the only one who didn't run screaming for the hills. He was too drunk to. He just stared as the captain hauled himself onto a bar stool and chuckled at the barkeep's absence.

"You willing to get me a drink, lad?" He asked, making that queer popping noise with his lips.

Jack had sort of rolled over the bar and slid down on the other side, returning with a bottle of rum. He set it before Jones and watched in fascination as one of the tentacles of his beard wrapped itself around the neck of the bottle and lifted it to the lipless mouth.

"Thankee, lad. I believe you're the only one to show me a bit of kindness in all my shore leave!" He laughed a rasping laugh and took another drink. "I expect ye deserve something for it. You're either stupid or fearless. What be yer heart's desire?"

Even drunk as he was, Jack seized on the opportunity to strike a deal. He thought of why he was in the Faithful Bride and why he was so drunk- he had no ship, no money. Nothing but his pride, and even that was hurting. He could still hear his shipmates laughing at his declaration that someday soon he'd be a captain, and not just any pirate. Not just any captain either.

"A ship," He said. "I want a ship of my own."

Jones made the popping noise again, then smiled a smile that made his tentacles dance.

"I think I just might be able to help you, lad. There are many ships in my domain."

"I want the best one," Jack said quickly. "The fastest and strongest. The envy of all who lay eyes on her."

Jones's smile got wider.

"Really, now? I think I have just the ship in mind, lad."

"Jack Sparrow," He said. "Captain Jack Sparrow." The second time he said it was just to try out the feel on his tongue. It rang throughout the empty tavern, a beautiful ghostly echo.

"Very well then, Jack Sparrow. Come aboard with me and my crew tomorrow, and you shall have yer ship."

Even next morning's hangover didn't make boarding the _Flying Dutchman_ seem like a bad idea. Jack's heart was pounding with anticipation. Jones's crew wasn't so bad, really, and it was actually quite fun to watch the mollusks on the ship open and close with the passing of its captain.

"Handsomely now, lads," Jones called from the quarterdeck. "I have a present for yonder Jack Sparrow, and I think she lies hereabouts. Weigh anchor!"

The anchor was weighed, canvas dropped, and every crewmember stood leering at Jack. He was a little afraid for his maidenly honor until Jones came stomping by again. Now he knew the look in their eyes wasn't lascivious- they just knew what was coming.

Jack had expected some fireworks or some mumbo jumbo at least, but Jones just stood at the rail of the ship beside him and closed his eyes. Moments later, the sea not far from them began to part.

She sprang fully formed from the depths in a wash of foam. Jack had expected the same barnacles and seaweed that covered the _Dutchman_ to cover her as well, but she was sleek and clean as if she had just slid out of the shipyard and into the sea. When he asked for fast and strong, he expected some sort of hulking brute of a ship, something that would strike terror in the heart of any honest sailor and even the dishonest ones. But she was sleek and beautiful- never was there a ship more deserving of the word 'she.' She was just as terrifying as the ship he had imagined, because he was in love with her before he could catch his breath.

Of course, that was how Davy Jones always did it. He didn't even mention the prospect of becoming a crew member to any sailor until after his hellfire and brimstone speech about death. He put the fear of death in you before he showed you the supposed light of salvation. He made Jack fall in love with her before he named his terms.

"Of course, there be conditions, Jack." Jones said. "You will be captain of this here ship, the finest in all my realm, for thirteen years and not a day more. Then you will give her back to me, and you will serve one hundred years before the mast, same as these fine lads here. Do you accept?"

"Aye," Jack whispered. "I do." He clasped Jones's hand without feeling and ignored the sniggers of the crew. Thirteen years was a long time to find a way out of the deal, and find a way he would. He was Jack Sparrow, after all-_Captain_ Jack Sparrow, he'd have to get used to that -and Jack Sparrow knew the second he lay eyes on that ship that he would not suffer to be parted with her.

"Who wants to go with our new captain and bring this fine ship back into Tortuga? I need six volunteers stout of heart!"

Jack watched as the six men came forward, still grinning. He even grinned back at them. He got into the longboat with them without a qualm. Davy Jones leaned over the rail and watched him go down.

"I will see you in thirteen years, Jack Sparrow. Thirteen years, and then you are mine, for you have sold your soul this day."

"All the best to you too!" Jack called, waving his hat.

They came on board and tread across the virgin decks. Jack wondered what had condemned her to the depths, but there was no visible injury on her. Her decks were still smooth, the glass in her lanterns unbroken. When he put his hands on her helm it was warm with sunlight.

"What's her name?" He asked a little dumbly.

"The _Black Pearl_." One of the crewmen called from the mainmast. "Fittin', what wif these here black sails."

He watched as they were furled and caught the breeze. A fine hum ran through the helm in his hands as she came shuddering to life after a long sleep.

"Jack Sparrow," He murmured. "Captain of the _Black Pearl._"

He shuddered along with her.

Now he sat in a rowboat, watching her from afar. The days when he imagined what it would be like when Jones came to take her away again weren't many, but when he did imagine it he'd always thought it would be a calm day like the day she was born. He imagined she would sink with all the majesty that she rose with. Not like this. Not with the sadly splintered wood and bloody bodies and the chaos on the deck. Not with the terrible fear of what lay below them- what was coming to collect his debt. His overdue debt.

He realized now that he didn't just sell his soul that day- he sold his heart. And it was time to pay up.

"After all, I had ye for a few more days than I thought I would, love." He whispered, thinking she could hear him over the roar.  
Jack pulled out his compass. He flicked it open, hardly daring to look at the needle. For the first time in weeks it didn't waver or spin around in crazy drunken circles (one of his first theories about its confused state was that he'd given it rum somehow). From the sweat on his skin and the aching pulse of his heart as it broke, it knew exactly what he wanted.

Jack Sparrow, Captain of the Black Pearl, smiled. If she was worth his soul, why wouldn't she be worth his life?

He rowed back, ready to die beside the first woman that truly captured his heart, his Venus raised from the depths.

* * *

A/N-- I hope you enjoyed my take on Jack's feelings for the Pearl! I had fun writing it!

If you enjoyed reading this, check out the POTC fic I coauthored called _the Mystery of Moonlight_. Its sequel, _the Forgotten Isle_, should be up soon too. Reviews for this or for that would be awesome!


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